If it wasn't Peter, at this point Claire would have called a great deal of this crazy talk as well. No hiding, no pretending? It was like being handed some kind of fairy tale, or being part of a dream. If this was a dream, it would break her heart, because she'd been alone too long to be given this kind of vivid, though totally insane, dream only to wake up again in a world where she had to pretend everything. Just the thought made her burrow harder against his chest, clutch tighter to him.
Safe she could believe, though, as she felt safe with him, always had, and even if they were still at risk she'd feel that way. It was enough to take the edge off the fear she felt upon seeing Sylar's face, trying to lie and him still knowing it was her. But just Gabriel? Some name she didn't know was connected to a face she'd never forget, and even if he'd just been someone who looked freakily like Sylar, he'd known her. That wasn't right, and she wasn't about to dismiss it entirely until she was certain what was going on in that respect.
But Peter had asked her a question and she wanted to answer, especially given the revelation that he'd, as he said, 'peeked'. She wanted to know how and where and when – every ridiculous little detail. This idea of not having to pretend or hide could wait for now.
"Texas this time," she finally said when the worst of the risks of continued babbling had passed, struggling through the quieter sobs but able to speak a bit more clearly. "Midland. I'm a waitress, a place called the Burnt Toast Diner." She didn't move much to do it, but her gaze went to the window, to the place on the street she'd found herself. "I was on my way into the kitchen to tell Andy-"
Andy. Her brow wrinkled then, as if she was here and the diner wasn't, then where was Andy? Her father? Everyone else she knew?
"Who else is here?" she asked him as she looked back and up at him. That question made its way out first, but the next was just as important and even more eagerly asked, something that belied the tears decorating her eyelashes and cheeks. "And what do you mean, peeked? When? How? Why didn't you say something?"
There were many times over the years she would have given everything to see him again, just for a brief period, even if it meant another part of her curling into a ball to mourn when he left.